


Glass Box

by sesshouchan



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:12:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3905899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesshouchan/pseuds/sesshouchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was just there waiting. Waiting for someone who could bring back his heart into beating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass Box

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I don't know what I am doing. Is it a bad thing? :D

“Is he for sale?”

“How much?”

“He’s mine!”

“I’m willing to pay! How much?”

No, he isn’t.

\--- 

Casa Monteiro –the creepiest shop that everyone’s scared of. One of the oldest shops located at the right corner of the shopping district, an old house giving an atmosphere such as dirty, ghostly and antique manner. It never attracts anyone except for the collectors that wanted the rarest and weirdest merchandises they could ever interest on. Different kind of items was displayed by the glass window that almost covered the front of the shop. The front door was made of an old wood that no one knows if such kind still exists. Some parts of it were rough and greeny as if it is alive and can chomp your hand if you lingered on it too much. Inside was a lot worst. There were things hanged from the ceiling that normal people would be disgusted of. Boxes of metal, wood and even plastic that got shaped of various art. Fossil animal parts especially heads were on each corner that it looked like you were being followed as you walk deeper into the shop. It could be paint but the design of dripping blood from the head added the horror to the decorations. But unlike to other design, the blood seemed continuous. The bright red that never stops flowing from the flesh hanged into the wall. The bottles and jars on the middle can make someone throw up for it contains human body parts. Hearts, lungs, tongue, even eyeballs. Preserve by chemicals to give the beauty of it last longer. There were even a couple of fetuses, so tiny curled up like they were still inside in their mother's wombs. Innocent looking babies that for sure could bring joy to their parents though somehow they ended up on that jars, sealing their fate on the cylinder object. However, the most eye-catching of all was not the items on the ceiling, the jars, the animals; they couldn’t be compared to the very best attraction of the place because nothing could be equaled to the human size doll on the back corner of Casa Monteiro.

The doll was captivating enough just like a human. Standing tall for an average height with perfect body measures. The beauty of it could never be pulled off using wax or fibers. No one knew what the doll was made of. Even the owner of the shop could not remember how the human doll got in there. He says so. Time could only tell how long it has been there yet there’s not a signal sign of dust or dirt inside the box. The skin of the item inside the glass box was breathing just like a human’s. Without touching it, anyone could tell that it was soft and perfectly maintained just by looking. The red clothes it wears can cost thousands of dollars giving the details emphasizing the beauty of the doll. The red brought the skin color paler than any skin tone compared. But it was not the reason why it became popular among parishioners. It was the eyes of the doll that makes it alive. The half-lid opened eyes that seemed to show boredom to the world made it more intriguing. Why it does so? Is it tired of being on the glass? Tired of seeing how fast time passes by? Why? It was just an observation among the people who have seen it but regardless, they cannot touch it. The golden eyes make their skin burn whenever they lay their hands on the glass. No one knew how but they sure felt it. The owner just seems to smile as his clients ask for aids. The burned skin last for hours and even experts did not know why and how did it happens. Many people already filed a complaint about how inhuman the shop was it even reached the court to discuss the closing of the place however, the law sided with Casa and that made the people shut their mouths up. Until then no one dared to question why the place is still standing there. Some says because it was backed up by dangerous organizations, yakuza, mafia, crime lords etc etc etc though the patrons have their own conclusion. They say it was the power of the doll on the back. The living doll trapped on the glass box. It was like telling the people that he should not be removed and his beauty should be spread across nation. They should come to him and vow to him to accept his existence in his tiny territory. 

“He looked at me!”

“No! He didn’t! He looked at me!”

“He’s looking at me!”

“Oh my God! Did he just glare at me? ”

“He’s alive!”

 

“He—”

Oh no he didn’t. The owner simply grins under all the exclamations his clients do whenever they stared at him for too long. He knew the doll very well. And he knew he was not looking at them. He does not have any second to look at you foolish people. He never cared. And he never will.  
The two claps of the old man walking slowly using his staff made the crowd stop at their delusional deductions. It was time to close after all. Sound of disapproval was heard among the people as if they never wanted to lose the sight of the majestic doll but they cannot break the rules or else they will be forever banned from Casa Monteiro.

“At last peace.”

The old man wondered through his shop admiring once again the beauty of every piece of art his eyes could lay on. He was as weird as his items but to his perception there was only beauty on it. He was neither guilty nor ashamed of his own collection on four walled shop. It was his pride that if he could boast them to people, he will but he will not. He was not the type of man that would do such thing because his principles in life say that it would be an insult to the art he holds. The art should be liked by its own color not by words of his person. And by that it will gain its true appreciation. 

He wondered long enough to be back to his favorite spot. He pulled the rocking chair and placed himself comfortably behind the counter as he slowly rocks himself staring at his most valued article.

“Your hair grew longer again. That blond hair of yours is getting paler again.” Said he looking deeply at the golden eyes of the immovable doll.

“Should I trim it for you?” But after a couple of seconds he laughed as if he was really talking to someone.

Giving a sigh he continued, “Golden eyes, pale blond – you’re really the perfection humankind could ever wish for.” 

“Hmmmm?” Chucking it low he said,

“Don’t worry. We’ll find them soon.” He said being his voice soft and gentle. It was then the old owner leaned back to his chair and started to close his eyes.  
\---   
At exactly 10 in the morning, the open sign of the shop was displayed for everyone to see. He knew no one would be daring to peek inside but the owner knows that within the day there will be someone. Patience is a virtue they say.

Another day yet again to spend idling inside his shop waiting for his noisy and assuming clients however to his surprise an odd customer showed up at his front door. The old man looked it up to see the person.

“My my…”

“What could I do for you little one?”

It was unexpected but his first client was a kid. An age he never thought he could see inside his shop. The kid was about five to six years of age but he can tell that the kid holds more intelligence than that. The hazel color of his eyes was emphasized by his ebony hair not longer than his shoulder. His tiny figure suited his pants and long shirt. He could never imagine that on that age a child could look like a grown up. The old man tried getting his attention but the kid just walked passed through him and loitered around. He doesn’t seem scared of what he was seeing and that fascinated the man. 

“What are you looking for, boy?” He asked again.

“Emm…” His wide eyes were observing his merchandises with such detail.

“Hmmmn?”

“Son…” The boy started with his cute voice. He’s frightened but he doesn’t show it.  
I like this boy.

The little boy was a bit of awkward by how the old man got puzzled of his answer. The boy then continued.

“The son…The son of the forbidden lovers.”

And all of a sudden the old man showed a lighten face yet it was serious enough to make the young man walked backwards.  
“Where did you learn that, boy?” He stepped forward knowing he was scaring him to death.

“I…”

“And who were these lovers you were referring to?”

The little one was quite trembling but he never lost the eye contact he had with the old man. Until he felt it was the dead end. His tiny back reached the wall limiting his possible escape. He observed around still looking for something he himself did not know of.

“You haven’t answered me kid.”

“What exactly are you looking for?”

And when the old man noticed he knew immediately what was the kid aiming for. The boy was already staring, captured once again, at the beautiful doll hovering on top of him. The hazel eyes beamed with amusement and at the same time relief saying that finally he found it.

“Him!” He pointed out.

“The son of the forbidden lovers!”

The old owner showed his widest smile as he approaches the kid. The young one didn’t even flicked a movement and just let the man near him.

“What did you say?”

“He’s the son of those lovers!”

“And who these lovers are?”

And out of nowhere the child looked back with the happiest innocent face the old man never see for many years but it was not that made him pleased. It was the answer the kid voiced out. The names he never thought he could hear again.

“The dark lord Asami…and his… his Akihito.”

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this doll and suddenly this idea came to life. :D   
> http://eldheldoll.imgmode.com/product/lar11.jpg


End file.
